


Occasionally Pious

by wyrd_eater



Category: Darkest Dungeon (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Roster Bonding, Winter Solstice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:03:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28492842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyrd_eater/pseuds/wyrd_eater
Summary: “You can spend your night on your knees if you like. I’ll be honoring the night with ale and companionship.”Well, when she put it likethat…“One round wouldn’t hurt, if you’re paying.”
Relationships: Hellion & Houndmaster (Darkest Dungeon)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9
Collections: Snowiest Dungeon





	Occasionally Pious

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BeveStuscemi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeveStuscemi/gifts).



William wasn’t a religious man. While he had never considered himself to be a heathen or an atheist, he had no special fondness for the Faith. His time spent sniffing out law-breakers had quickly taught him that the Church, as with every other institution founded by human hearts and minds, was rotted through with corruption right down to its very foundations. The tight-lipped men and women of the cloth were as secretive as any crime organization and twice as powerful. As a result, Mass had quickly lost its appeal, and he had ceased attending Mass at all, with the exception of the more important liturgical events. Call it a vague fear of eternal damnation or a lingering nostalgia for his childhood. Either way, William found himself in a pew at least three times a year, humming along to half-remembered hymns.

Candelfeste Eve was one such exception to his rule. Taking place on the longest night of the year, and lasting twice as long as a normal Mass, it was one of the drearier holidays on the ceremonial calendar. The hymns were ponderous, the selected Verses were grim, and the clergy was downright dolorous. William hadn’t missed a Candelfeste Eve service for decades, and he wasn’t about to start doing so just because his circumstances had changed. Sure, he could skip the Candelfeste Eve service and attend the Feast tomorrow and its accompanying service, which was worlds more lighthearted, but that would be _cheating_. You _had_ to sit through the painfully long night service so that you could fully appreciate the feast the next day. That was just how it worked.

He left the barracks as the Abbey's bells began to toll. The sun glowered low on the horizon, thick and red against a cloudless orange sky. The snow, which for the most part had been driven away from the main thoroughfares and forced into dirty piles alongside the roads, gleamed beneath the slantwise rays. Little wisps of black cloth fluttered from shutters and doorways and fenceposts, meant to ward off the Darkness.

Fergus walked by Willian's side, occasionally shivering beneath his steadying hand as they picked their way around slick patches of frozen mud. Other denizens of the hamlet were walking along the main road to the abbey, mostly haggard families with moon-eyed children, all of them clutching unlit candles of various sizes. William hadn’t been able to track down his own candle for the service, but he was certain that the abbey had _more_ than enough to spare. He spotted a cluster of his fellow mercenaries up ahead - Missandei and Barristan and Margaret - close enough to call out to. He said nothing, though, preferring it this way. They were good people, but there was something special about the reverent hush of Candelfeste Eve, broken only by the deep-throated tolling of bells—

" _Ha!_ Barely a scratch!"

Fergus pricked her ears up and swiveled her head over to the training yard of the Guild Hall. William would recognize that growling yell anywhere. It was Boudica. sparring with Guild-Master Kasim. The harsh scrape of colliding weaponry and labored grunts filled the gaps between the vespers bells.

William drifted over to the training yard, entranced by the ease with which Boudica swung her massive glaive, as though it weighed little more than a walking stick. It was one thing to catch glimpses of her prowess in the dim light of the weald, and another thing entirely to see it so clearly in the soft light of the setting sun. William rested his forearms against the fence surrounding the training yard. Fergus sat down next to him.

A line of red dripped down her right bicep. Strange. The Guild-Masters typically insisted on using blunted training weapons while sparring. Knowing Boudica, she had undoubtedly taunted Kasim into using real weaponry. He eyed over the two fighters, slowing his pace. Despite the chill in the air, sweat glistened on Kasim’s jutting brow and Boudica’s rippling shoulders.

Mass could wait. For a few moments.

Their combat was fast and brutal, weapons missing one another by barely a hair's breadth, the very air between them prickling with the promise of bloodshed. Boudica, despite her size and ferocious personality, was a graceful fighter, moving with the sweeping arcs of her glaive as one might dance with a partner. This delicate illusion was shattered each time Boudica's glaive connects with Kasim’s longsword, the sharp _clang_ loud enough to echo off the buildings, a terse reminder of the immense strength the wild woman possessed. William leaned forwards, his heart skipping in time to the frenzied pattern of their bodies.

Kasim swung his sword in a wide half-circle. Boudica skipped backwards, the point of his sword slicing the air by her throat. Boudica brought her glaive around to fill the gap left behind by Kasim’s swing, only to meet his blade. William's right arm twinged in sympathy as Kasim dug his heels into the dirt to avoid toppling over. With a careful tilt of her glaive and a sharp twist upwards, Boudica sent the sword flying from Kasim’s hands. It embedded itself point-first in the frozen dirt. Her blade was at Kasim’s neck in the next breath.

The two fighters stared at one another, breath billowing between their faces in great white clouds.

“I yield.” Kasim grimaced.

Boudica’s face cracked open in a wide grin. She howled and swept her blade up and over her shoulder. She threw her fist up in the air, looking around for witnesses to her grand victory. Her eyes landed on William.

“You, hound-man!” she said, striding over to where he leant against the fence. Fergus's tail wags hard in the dirt at her approach, no doubt remembering all the scraps of meat Boudica had slipped to her during their last expedition together. Boudica’s hand drifts to her head, scratching around her ears. “Accompany me to the bar to celebrate this victory! This will be a long night, and I want to fill it with beer and laughter!”

“As nice as a pint sounds, I can’t. Not tonight.”

“Afraid I’ll drink you under the table again?”

William chuckled and shook his head. Everything was always a competition with Boudica. Had he been about ten years younger, he might have found it refreshing. As it was, every moment he spent with Boudica felt as though he was being dragged along behind a runaway horse. Thrilling, but exhausting, with a high potential for broken bones and bruising.

“It’s Candelfeste Eve.”

“And?” Boudica snorted. “Should I know what this is?”

William blinked, a bit thrown. He knew that Boudica was a heathen, but it was still a bit of a shock to him that she had spent so long on the mainland and had never even heard of one of the most important holidays of the year.

“It’s… Well… you know… It’s one of the church’s holidays—”

“Ah!” Boudica’s eyes lit up. “Yes! One of your feast-days. Plenty of meat and ale.” She rested a hand on the fence and used it to vault herself over. William stumbled back, narrowly avoiding catching her elbow in his eye. “What are we waiting for, hound-man?”

“It’s not that sort of holiday,” William said, turning with her as she began to stride towards the abbey. “It’s just a special evening Mass.”

Boudica stopped and turned. She frowned and set a fist against her hip. “Special?”

“It’s longer—”

Boudica held up a hand and shook her head. “We’re going to the tavern instead.”

William laughed at her firm statement. “ _You_ can go to the tavern. Fergus and I are going to Mass.”

"Are they letting animals inside the abbey now?"

"Only the well-trained ones."

"Hm. What is it that’s so important about this Mass?”

“It celebrates the last night humanity spent without the Flame, before the Light gifted it to us.” Even as he said it, he felt ridiculous. There was no conviction, no zeal, behind his words. Just flat recitation, like a bored schoolboy trying to speed through a history lesson. Boudica likewise had a flat expression on her face. “It’s a bit somber, but by the end it’s rather beautiful. They light candles. You might even enjoy it.”

"I don’t need to attend to know what it’ll be like.” Boudica rolled her eyes. “Another one of your little rituals, spent chanting to dust and mumbling into your hands. Some chanting and incense-burning. Bah. Some ritual. No offerings of meat or skins or battle displays. It is a wonder your ancestors answer your pleas at all, with your pathetic sacrifices. Gold and crying. What use do ancestors have for these? And this flame. Humans make their own flames every day. What’s so special about this flame?”

"We don't pray to our ancestors. We-"

"Yes, yes, I know. You pray to your Light.”

“It’s not _my_ Light. And the Flame is…” William struggled to articulate what he had always taken for granted. Now that he had been put on the spot, he was dismayed to find that he couldn’t tell Boudica what it was that made the Flame so special, other than it being a gift from the Light.

“Whoever’s it is,” Boudica shrugged. “ _You_ can spend your night on your knees if you like. I’ll be honoring the night with ale and companionship.” She began to walk away. Fergus whined at her departure.

Well, when she put it like _that_ …

“Hold a moment.” William started after her, throwing a guilty glance towards the abbey. Boudica stopped and looked over her shoulder. “ _One_ round wouldn’t hurt, if you’re paying.”

“Ha!” Boudica smiled. William had never seen such an untethered smile. When Boudica smiled, she smiled with all of her teeth, like a hungry wolf. She walked back to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, squeezing so tightly that it made William wince. “I knew you had some spirit in you, hound-man!”

~

One round became two became five became too many to count. Candelfeste Eve Mass fell out of William’s mind somewhere between the second and third, mixed in with the revelry and Boudica’s boastful stories. By the time the bartender turned them out of the bar and into the bitter cold, William was one stiff breeze away from spending the night in a snowbank. Boudica supported him with one of her muscular arms – or maybe it was William supporting her, it was hard to tell with the way they swayed – and steered them away and towards the barracks.

William was laughing, he couldn’t remember what at. Boudica was telling some joke that didn’t translate well to William’s tongue, her burred voice slipping and sloshing between William’s ears. He nodded along, utterly focused on keeping his feet walking along the iced thoroughfare. Fergus walked alongside them and occasionally nosed at her master, as though guiding him home. William buried his hand in her coarse fur.

The abbey bells tolled. William’s ears pricked at the sound of distant singing.

“It’s too late for Mass,” he mumbled.

“And then,” Boudica went on, “the panther said to the maiden… No, wait… The maiden was wearing a red… _white_ dress…”

“Why’re the bells tolling?”

“Candles,” Boudica snapped. “Anyways… and the panther said, ‘What a beautiful dress you have!’ See?”

“Candles…” William frowned. He gasped. “Candles! Candelfeste Eve! I forgot… Oh, Light…”

Boudica shrugged, which almost turned into a stumble. “Maybe the Light didn’t notice. Bring some meat to the abbey next time you go. Oh, or a pelt.”

William laughed despite his sudden fear for his immortal soul. Which was rather hard to focus on with all the warmth in his stomach and the fuzziness of his mind. He knew he would feel guilty and achy in the morning, but right then he felt _good._ Alive.

“Sure… I’ll do that.”

“We should hunt together! First thing tomorrow morning, we’ll hunt. And bring the carcass to your Light. And then all will be well.”

It was hard to argue with her confidence. William nodded along, knowing full-well that they would both be useless by the time the sun peaked over the horizon.

“First things first…” William leaned against her as a harsh wind swept down the lane. Distantly, the lantern that hung outside the barracks swung back and forth. “We have to make it back to the barracks.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)


End file.
